


The Most Important Spy of All

by HM (HyperMint)



Category: Elementary (TV), Inception (2010), Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Fun, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, M/M, One Shot Collection
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2017-12-11
Packaged: 2019-02-13 09:52:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12981516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HyperMint/pseuds/HM
Summary: Four little stories unrelated to one another in four different fandoms.





	1. Elementary: 'Why Not?'

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Nothing is mine. A certain song came on the radio the morning of 12/10 and I couldn't help it.
> 
> AN: Happy Holidays!   
> Each of the four chapters can be read alone, so if you don't want to read one chapter, you won't be missing much. There will be a link to the song that started all of this in each chapter. 
> 
> No pairings in this chapter, though. 
> 
> Summary: Joan makes one little girl's Christmas.
> 
> Enjoy!

* * *

She was on the edges of the room, watching the party start to get underway.

The 11th Precinct was home to her and Sherlock, so they had been invited to the Christmas party they usually threw for the kids in a variety of places and this year was for low income families that the Department was responsible for. Sherlock was probably on his way back with Alfredo from a meeting, though she wouldn’t put it past him to find more excuses to stay away.

She’d had no other plans, so she showed up and people were beginning to arrive.

Everyone was mingling as she stayed on the edge, watching and amusing herself with deductions about what everyone was going to do or had done in the hours before and after the party, when she caught sight of a little girl – of what appeared to be Chinese ancestry – looking like she would rather be elsewhere.

She wasn’t like the other little kids, entranced by the decorations and the atmosphere of the party, instead all to herself at a table in a ball next to a worried looking adult Joan believed was a relative if not a parent.

That wasn’t right.

Kids were supposed to be excited for Christmas and presents, not on the verge of tears.

So, of course, Joan made her way over to the table to see if she could make things a little better for the girl.

“Hello,” she got the other woman’s attention, as her eyes swung in her direction and she stood. They took a few steps from the table before continuing, “I work with the 11th Precinct with Captain Gregson and I was wondering if everything was okay.”

“I’m sorry,” she smiled sadly. “I don’t know if this was a good idea. My sister had to do some work things and I volunteered to watch her this week, and I thought it was a good idea to come here so I signed us both up. I thought it would be fun, but… As you can see,” they glanced over, “I’m not sure anyone’s having fun.”

“Well, maybe I could talk to her,” she offered. “Do you know what’s wrong?”

“No,” she seemed at a loss. “I think this has been going on for two weeks, now, but my sister hasn’t mentioned anything to me.”

“I’ll talk to her, okay? I’ll see what the problem is.”

“Could you? Oh, thank you so much. It’s just, I want her to be happy during Christmas so if you can help somehow, I would be so grateful.”

“Why don’t you go get some eggnog or something and I’ll sit with her in the meantime?” she suggested.

She gently coaxed her off and took a minute to study the downturned head before slowly approaching from the side. “Hello?” she smiled slightly as the girl refused to look up. “Can I sit here?”

The girl didn’t seem to notice her, so she slowly slid into a chair nearby.

“It’s a nice party,” she spoke again, trying to get a response. “Don’t you think?”

She didn’t uncurl from her ball and Joan couldn’t help feeling sad for her.

“What did you want for Christmas?” she finally asked, knowing it was the one thing any kid would jump to answer.

That got a reaction, the little girl raising her head to reveal tear stained cheeks. “I’m… I’m not going to get it,” her bottom lip wavered as tears welled up again. “I’m n-never going to m-meet h-him.”

“Him?” all sorts of thoughts immediately started tumbling around in her head. This might be a sensitive topic. “You mean Santa?”

“No,” she sniffled. “I wanna m-meet Penguin, bu-but no one understands.”

“Penguin?” she frowned slightly.

“I-I heard a-about him on the r-radio,” she explained. “And I w-wanna meet him, but all I get are toys.”

“I don’t… know anyone named ‘Penguin’,” she needed a little more information than that, but she couldn’t help thinking it sounded familiar somehow.

“It was-was on the r-radio. He – he works for Sa-Santa, at the North Pole. And he tells him all the kids that are nice and naughty and I really want to meet him, because I never met a penguin before. I just he-heard about him and I wanted to say sorry th-that I never he-heard of him before. I-I think I hurt his fe-feelings and I don’t want to hu-hurt his fee-feelings or I’ll – I’ll get coal.”

Oh.

It must’ve been a Christmas song on the radio and it completely convinced her that this ‘Penguin’ existed.

She wasn’t sure how to answer as the girl worried over this non-existent ‘Penguin’ and how he might give her coal for something that wasn’t her fault.

This was why she wasn’t a mother.

She searched for something to say and the words seemingly came out of their own accord:

“How do you know it’s a ‘he’? It could be a girl.”

Tear stained eyes stared at her. “A girl?” she echoed for a moment, before shaking her head. “No. The song said it’s a boy.”

“Ah, but maybe the person who wrote the song wanted to make it about a girl, but she didn’t want her secret to get out so she made the person pinky swear that it would be about a boy.”

She definitely had her attention now, wide brown eyes watching her with a slowly growing hope. “Y-you mean Penguin is – is a _girl_? Like me?”

“Why not?” she smiled widely. “And… she was probably off drinking tea when you asked to meet with her, so she missed it. And now she feels really sorry that she made you cry when it’s so close to Christmas, that maybe she’s worried she’s going to be the one getting coal.”

“But she can’t get coal!” the little girl sounded scandalized. “She works for Santa! He would never give her coal,” she declared. “He might make her clean her room and eat green beans,” she wrinkled her nose, “but never coal. She would get really upset and he wouldn’t want her to be upset because then she’ll stay in bed all day and not go out to give toys to the nice kids!”

“Maybe you’re right,” Joan was glad to see the tears dry up. “Penguin would want her new friend to be happy for Christmas. But she really is sorry she missed your letter. She might be busy tonight.”

“Oh,” she looked thoughtful. “Well, there’s always next time. I mean, I can wait. I bet she’s got lots of other kids to meet so they won’t get coal, either.”

“ _Or_ ,” she was really warming up to it, now. “Maybe she did get to read your letter and maybe she’s here in disguise, because she doesn’t want anyone to know that she’s visiting.”

The girl gasped and started looking around. “She’s _here_?” she whispered in disbelief and a little excitement.

“I don’t know,” Joan smiled. “She’s probably got a penguin somewhere on her clothes to be sneaky, so only the good kids know what she looks like.”

“But what if it’s Halloween?” she wanted to know, wide eyes looking for any female with a penguin motif anywhere on her person.

“Her name might start with … a P. For Penguin.”

“No, J. But,” she frowned in consideration. “Maybe her name is different.”

“J? Maybe it’s someone wearing a penguin pin with a ‘J’ in her name,” Joan suggested. “And anyone who hears about _her_ on the radio will know who she is.”

“Really?” she gasped, hands coming up to her mouth as she twisted around in her seat, as if ‘Penguin’ was so easily visible.

“Yup,” Joan nodded solemnly, having fun with their conversation. A glance over to the right found Marcus waving to get her attention and she heaved a sigh. “Okay, well, let me know if you find her. I have to go, but I’ll see you later.”

“Uh huh,” she nodded enthusiastically. “I’ll keep looking!”

Joan smiled widely and nodded in return. She glanced over at the girl’s Aunt and winked reassuringly before standing and making her way to her friend.

For the rest of the party, she caught glimpses of that little girl on her quest to find her ‘Penguin’, smiling when the little girl caught sight of her and waved.

Then it was time for presents and the Captain, er, Santa dropped a small box in Joan’s hands with a pat on the back.

“For bein’ the best Consultants we have,” Marcus explained in his Elf hat, Sherlock busy turning his own box around in his hands. Alfredo had stuck around and had received his own box.

“We are the _only_ Consultants you have,” Sherlock corrected.

“In a manner of speakin’,” Marcus grinned. “Go ahead and open them.”

They all got a lapel pin, Joan staring at hers in surprise.

“You don’t like it?” Alfredo questioned, immediately pinning his small car on his shirt collar.

Sherlock glanced over as his bee pin joined his French horn pin.

“No,” she blinked at it again, a small smile growing on her face as an idea took hold. “Thank you, guys.”

“For?” Santa asked.

She simply shook her head and found the little girl with her new stuffed friend about an hour later.

“A dragon,” the little girl held up the Mushu character from _Mulan_.

“I hope he brings honor to your family,” she told her as her Aunt came to them.

“Thank you so much,” she whispered to her. “She has been feeling so much better.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she waved the gratitude off. “It was my pleasure. Oh,” she ‘suddenly’ remembered. “I never introduced myself, did I?” she was aware of the little girl watching her as she held out a hand. “My name’s Joan.”

“Thank you, Ms. Joan,” the Aunt gave her name and clasped folded Joan’s hand between hers. “We had so much fun.”

“I’m glad,” she smiled, then crouched down to the girl. “And did you have fun, too?”

“Yes,” she piped up. “I didn’t find Penguin, though. I looked really hard.”

Joan gave her a secret smile before leaning closer. “I bet she found you, though. And don’t worry, you didn’t hurt her feelings. You won’t be getting coal this year and she won’t, either.”

“That’s good. But,” she frowned, head tilted. “I really wanted to meet her.”

“How do you know you didn’t?” Joan countered, casually reaching up and revealing the pin she had hidden under her lapel, watching as the girl’s eyes _saucered_. She winked as the pin was hidden again and she stood to once more shake hands with the Aunt. “Merry Christmas and have a prosperous New Year.”

“And to you, as well,” she returned.

Joan glanced down to see the little girl’s eyes fill with wonder and winked again before walking away.

She found [the song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a1vsmEc6gOA) later and was happy that, if nothing else, she’d been able to make at least one Christmas wish come true.

* **\ End


	2. Person of Interest: 'Elf Cam'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes, John can't help wondering about Finch.

* * *

It was just the latest in a string of Numbers that required more work, than action.

John had finished up with the family and was sitting on a coffee break before returning to the Library. He knew he could just talk to Finch through the ear pieces they both wore, but he knew the other man felt better and relaxed when he actually walked through the door and stood in front of him – preferably unscathed.

It wasn’t going to be difficult, considering how much of nothing he’d been doing the past weeks full of boring Numbers.

Not that he was complaining, but he wanted some action or he would start going crazy.

He was trying to figure out what he was going to do with the rest of his night, when a group of kids wandered by. The oldest was probably barely a teen, but he seemed to be able to handle the group with ease.

That took some skills, as far as he was concerned.

“Hey, Blake,” one of the little girls eagerly plucked the boy’s sleeve. “Think they saw me today?”

“Yeah!” one of the little boys beamed. “I bet they saw me, too! Those Elves are going to be _drowning_ us with presents at Christmas at all the good things we been doing!”

Elves? Christmas?

Still at least four months away, too early to be thinking about December yet.

But it did explain how the oldest boy managed to keep control over the flock of little ones, threatening them with ‘Elves’ and coal in their stockings.

John watched them mosey past in no obvious hurry and huffed a laugh.

Elves, right.

‘Whatever works, I guess.’

He did remember being just as … gullible?... ready to please at that age, just as worried about some kind of all-knowing Santa putting him on a list to distinguish him from other kids more deserving of gifts. Once the holidays had rolled around, he’d been on his best behavior.

That group, however, seemed to be doing their time even this far out from the big day.

The kid he’d used to be would have told them that Santa was far more interested in them closer to Christmas, because he would be getting ready to go around the globe and he had to plan ahead like his Mama had told him. That was to mark off the bad kids before Christmas so he wouldn’t have to waste time when he had so many good kids to visit.

But, back then, he’d always understood – and believed – that it was always Santa who, by some kind of magic, always knew who to give the presents to. The Elves, however, had always taken care of the presents. Nowhere had it been said that the Elves had been involved in the ‘Naughty’/’Nice’ lists.

The group that had just passed, however, believed that the Elves were the ‘end all, be all’ of their names being on one list as opposed to the other and that they were being watched by the present making Elves twenty-four/ seven all year round.

He doubted any of them had yet to question how many Elves there ‘actually’ were so that they could split into teams of ‘presents’ and ‘surveillance’. Or maybe there were the present making Elves on a classified ‘Need to Know’ basis, while an elite team of their fellows made the decision according to some kind of Elf version of mission parameters.

That team would be watching via any means possible, like cameras hooked up to birds or shapeshifting into the birds themselves. Birds were everywhere, weren’t they?

Or they could just be like Finch and watch everyone do everything via some complicated Machine-like program that spat out addresses instead of Numbers.

Yeah, he thought as chuckles turned into outright laughter. He could just  _see_ a couple high clearance Elves tapping into security systems all over the world to [spy on children](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a1vsmEc6gOA) for Santa’s ‘Naughty’ and ‘Nice’ lists.

*\

Harold could breathe easier when his partner’s footsteps barely made a sound as they approached his computer desk. “All’s well that ends well, Mr. Reese,” he glanced up and blinked at the strange look the other man was giving him. “Mr. Reese?”

“… yeah,” he said shortly, giving him an intense study that made him look down at himself. “If it’s okay with you, I… I have some errands to run.”

“By your leave, then,” he nodded. “No Number tonight, I’m afraid.”

Frankly, the look he was getting made him wonder if that was such a bad thing. The taller man appeared to need a break.

He didn’t move for long moments, blue eyes almost thoughtful in their gaze. “Say, Finch… You built the Machine for the Government, right? To track terrorism threats?”

“Yes…” he answered, raising a brow. “Why else?”

It was a long moment before Reese gave his head a good shake. “Never mind. See you tomorrow.”

He stared after him for a long moment before huffing out a sigh.

The man did indeed require a break – starting with an afternoon at the gun range.

A longer holiday wouldn’t go amiss, either.

* **\End

**Author's Note:**

> Hope your Holidays were made just a little better this year.


End file.
